Citizen Kane
¶ 1
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Oh Citizen Kane,
Harry Kane
Bayern Munich bound
A penny for the
Thoughts of
Orson Wells
From way back when
When Hollywood
Revelled in its golden
Age. Yes movie magic
But for now Kane
Is destined for
The land of efficiency
Teutonic thoroughness
Leaving his boyhood idols
Behind him with a shrug
Of regret perhaps
Spurs he knew from his cradle
But needs must
Football’s imperatives
A trophy in his cabinet
It always seemed to slip away
From Citizen Kane
Never quite there
On the threshold of something
Big, loaded with significance
Triumphant boulevards of
The Seven Sisters Road
Never quite seemed to fit
Harry Harry Kane
So the choristers at Spurs
Chanted with such powerful
Abandon
He was one of our own
But now no longer
Citizen Kane
Tireless but fruitless
In North London streets
And avenues
But never an FA Cup
Or Premier League
The agonising questions
On the cusp of Champions League
Glory, glory glory
But not, so near but far
For the boys at White Hart Lane
The club he worshipped from
Tender youth
That Spurs academy
That gave him the
Foundation stone
This was the club
Of Perryman, Knowles,
Hoddle, Ardilles and
Villa, Dyson, White
And Greaves
Engraved with royal
Inscriptions
Footballing knights
Of the realm
Blessed with all the
Faculties and gifts
Galore
This morning though
Harry Kane
Opens up another page
The home of Breitner,
Beckenbauer, Muller
Who once embellished
Our thoughts
Of German supremacy
When World Cups
Came so naturally to them
Bayern Munich
At one point
Unsurpassable,
Unbeatable, a force of nature
Then slumps and sloughs of Despond
Defeat would become
As an electric shock
To their system
Bayern Munich
Those European giants
Still slumbering
For a while
But Citizen Kane
From Tottenham Hotspur
Will be among us
Among German terraces
We wish you well
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